


Not Another Cinderella Story

by mkilian



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkilian/pseuds/mkilian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi there! so this is an original work by moi and its based off of the 2008 Another Cinderella Story w/ Selena Gomez etc but like they're not that similar but they kind of are lol sorry for my uncertainty and rambling. thanks for reading xx mhairi</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. First Day Jitters

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! so this is an original work by moi and its based off of the 2008 Another Cinderella Story w/ Selena Gomez etc but like they're not that similar but they kind of are lol sorry for my uncertainty and rambling. thanks for reading xx mhairi

            “First day of senior year…” my best friend, Sif stared at the front doors to our school. “… Are you ready for the first day of the end of our lives?” She looked at me, and we gulped with _excitement_. “Come on Isadora Violet Ulloah! Can you try to have fun for 10 months of our lives?”

            “I hope so,” I mumbled to myself. Sif and I had been best friends since the third grade, when my mom died and I lived with her family in New York City for a year, until my Uncle Travis, my mom’s brother, took me in. Thankfully, he lived only a few blocks away from Sif’s brownstone, and we became sisters at heart. Travis though, was an obnoxious prick, to say the least. He had two sons, Hunter and Felix, the most posh, and preppy boys to ever walk the Earth. We didn’t necessarily hate each other, but they thought that I was below them, and unimportant to their aristocratic lives. Uncle Travis didn't hate me either; he just constantly reminded me that my father left when he found out my mom was pregnant. He also really loved my cousins, and babied them as if they were still children, even though they were both old enough to be in college, but stupid enough to still be in the 9th grade. Sadly, they were only held back a year, and were in Sif and my grade.

            Sif took a step forward, then turned back to me. “Together?” She reached out her hand and I took it.

            “Together.”

            We entered the school just as they were filing the juniors and seniors into the auditorium for our homeroom assignments, and announcements. We did go to one of the best performing arts schools on the eastern seaboard, but they weren’t very organized when it came to the first day of classes. Hunter and Felix were both jock, art students; Uncle Travis didn’t feel like sending me to a different school than his prized possessions, and forced me to audition for a vocal music spot. Sif was a dance student, and we had all of our normal classes together, but were only separated when I had vocal workshops, and music classes, and she had her dance studio classes. But thankfully they were on the same floor, so who ever got out first would meet the other and walk to the next set of classes together.

            Sif and I sat in the back of the senior section, along with our friends, Toby, who was another music student, and Luna, who was an art kid. Luna was our spy. She told us endless stories about my injudicious cousins, and gave us information that we could hang over their heads.

            Our principal, Mr. Hermann, called out last names along with the room numbers, those were our homerooms, where we would get our class schedules, and everything else. “Margaret Wilson through Sif Zachariah; room 21.” He yelled into the microphone (mispronouncing Sif’s name as Ziff (it’s an S, not a Z dude)), Sif and I stood up, and made our way through the corridor to room 21, Ms. Allison’s room. Ms. Allison was our history teacher for our sophomore year, and will be again for senior year; she was also one of my favorite teachers. Sif and I gave each other a look when Margaret Wilson walked into the room. She was Felix’s girlfriend, and Hunter’s best friend (that wasn't Felix). She was over the house all the time, and treated me like her slave.

            “Oh,” She stopped and looked at me. “Now you’re going to start serving me at school? Yay!” Margaret clapped her hands together and made her way to her seat across the room.

            Sif rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe Larissa dropped out, and now the sea witch is now in our sacred homeroom.” Her long silvery-blonde hair did look almost grey, like Ursula’s, from the Little Mermaid. No one could deny that Margaret was drop-dead gorgeous, but her heart was colder than New York in the winter, when you stand out side in nothing but your underwear. I didn’t hate anyone more on the planet than her.

 

            Ms. Allison assigned us all seats, and handed out our schedules, and cards with our locker numbers and combos for the locks. Sif, who sat behind me, slid her schedule around my shoulder and onto my desk. I compared the two, and circled every class we had together; which were everything except my music classes and her dance, which were at the same period. Ms. Allison dismissed us and let the class go out and find our lockers. Sif and I were next to each other, as per usual. “If anyone had lunch 5th period, come sit with us!” Margaret yelled as she strutted out of the room. “Except for you two…” she stopped at stared at Sif and I.

I took at step forward, but Sif held me back, “Izzy—don’t let her affect you. She’s a bitch.”

“Okay,” I sighed, and we found our lockers next to each other. Unloading our books, Sif and I tried not to let Margaret ruin our plans for the 10 months of our lives. “I can’t believe Felix can date her? Like what the hell does her see in her? And Hunter too, like they’re under her spell?”

“Their hearts are just as cold as hers. Actually, they might be warmer, if I dare say that much.”

“You’ve just never been over when she’s there. It’s like a dementor from _Harry Potter_ just walked into my house, and the life is being sucked out of everything as there is frost forming on all the windows, and the carpets. I hate her more than I hate posh guys.”

Sif laughed as she slammed her locker closed, “Let’s go to English before I want to kill you for talking about the Ice Queen.” We walked up the hallway into our English classroom. We continued through the day before she dropped me off at my voice workshop, the period before our dreaded lunch with the Queen Bitch.


	2. Look at the New Kid

“Ah! Miss. Ulloah! I’d like for you to meet someone very special!” Mr. Mathers, my voice teacher at school, yelled across the room then ran towards me. “This is a new student we’ve been so blessed to gain this year. Isadora, this is Dylan Reynolds. I’d really appreciate it if you’d show him around school today?” I froze. I was not good with speaking to people, especially boys. Somehow, I managed to nod my head, and smile at him. Mr. Mathers’ grin spread wide across his face, it looked as if he was going to pounce and give me the biggest hug I had ever received, but he stopped when he noticed the rest of the students pile in.

“It’s really nice to meet you… Isadora, is it?” said Dylan and I lifted half of my mouth into a shy smile. I was waiting for a New York accent, but was dumbfounded when he was British.

“I normally go by Izzy.” I caught myself saying probably the stupidest thing I could ever say to one of the hottest boys I had ever laid my eyes on. I smiled, turned on my heel, and took a seat near the back.

He followed me, but Mr. Mathers grabbed his arm. “Everyone, this is our new student, Dylan Reynolds. You can go sit down now.” Mr. Mathers let go of Dylan’s arm, and Dylan ran to get the seat right next to me. Toby was sitting across the room. He noticed how uncomfortable I was around Dylan, and tried to offer me a sympathetic looks, but it didn’t work. “Now, we will start with the annual, beginning of the year concert! Each student will sing their current favorite song, classical or popular, as long as it’s somewhat appropriate for school.” He chuckled, as he took the class list from his podium and scanned over it once. “Isadora! Show our new student what Reitman Academy for the Arts is all about!”

My eyes widened, as everyone in the class turned around to stare at me until I stood up. I pulled out my chair, and straightened out my dress before walking to the front of the room. “Well, I’ve been on a little nostalgia kick lately,” I made eye contact with Dylan, who looked generally interested in what I was saying. “It’s not really a throw back to a long time ago, but to 2012. My recent favorite song is _Glad You Came_ by The Wanted.” I took a long and deep breath, before walking over to Mr. Mathers. “Can I perhaps, play my song along while I sing? Or should it be a cappella?”

“You can play! Go right ahead!” Mr. Mathers smiled, before scribbling something down next to my name.

I walked over to the piano, my chunky heels clacking on the linoleum floor. I hit a few chords before finding my key, and started to play the intro. “The sun goes down, the stars come out. And all that counts, is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I’m glad you came.” I played the chords, as they rang through my head, and through the room. For not warming up, this was going pretty well already. I made it through the first verse and the chorus smoothly, and was onto the second verse before I realized that almost everyone in the room’s jaws had dropped. “Turn the lights out now, now I’ll take you by the hand. Hand you another drink, drink it if you can; can you spend a little time, time is slipping away; away from us so stay, stay with me I can make; make you glad you came.” I laughed off the embarrassment of everyone staring blindly at me, and kept singing until I was on the last repetition of the chorus, and plunked out the final chord, to silence them all. I stood up from behind the piano, and received a standing ovation. Everyone was cheering and clapping as hard, and as loud as they could. I bowed, and went back to my seat in the corner of the room.

“Thank you Izzy. That was marvelous! Dylan, would you like to go next?”

“I don't think I could ever compete with what Izzy just put out!” He stood up and the whole class laughed, but Dylan walked to the front of the room anyway. “It’s going to be really hard to follow Izzy, but here it goes… Over the summer, my girl friend cheated on me, then we broke up. I think this song kind of speaks for it? I don't know. I’ll be singing _Mr. Brightside_ by the Killers.” He coughed then repositioned himself in front of the class. He spotted a guitar sitting in the corner of the room, and picked it up, shyly. Dylan played as he sang, not breaking eye contact with me unless he had to look at his hand on the neck of the guitar. Once he opened his mouth to sing, I felt my stomach drop. His voice was the smoothest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Toby looked at me from across the room, and we just regarded each other, then back at Dylan. Dylan did not break eye contact. He sang to me as if I was the only person in the room, and I could feel myself blush every time his eyebrows crinkled as if he was in agony from the heartbreak still. “Open up my eager eyes, cause I’m Mr. Brightside.” He sang at the top of his lungs. “I never…” he resonated throughout the music room. Dylan concluded the song with one single strum of the final chord, before smiling at me. I smiled back, not wanting to be rude, but he was intriguing. His presence made me feel as if I already knew his secrets, and he was my best friend. Bowing, Dylan flipped his dark brown hair back, as it had fallen into his eyes. His beaming blue eyes glistened in the grotesque florescent lights of the basement classroom. He put the guitar back in the corner, and then returned to his seat while everyone else was still wildly clapping for him.

“Great job, Dylan! Who’s next?” Mr. Mathers was still sitting nonchalantly on his desk, reading random names off of his list.

Dylan leaned across his desk so that he was closer to me, “You did better than I could’ve ever done. Even on stage, at a gig.”

“You do gigs?”

He nodded, “I did in London, where I’m from. I used to—“ He was cut off my a girl by the name of Alex, who was called on to perform next. Dylan never did finish his thought, but after more than half the class performed, and the bell rang, he was the first to follow me out of the classroom. “What class do you have next? I have Lunch, Government, and then English.”

We had almost the same schedule. “We have lunch, and Gov. I had English this morning. Sorry, but I had to wait for my friend. You’re welcome to walk with me,” I wanted to shake him off, but I didn’t at the same time. Honestly, I had problems with guys. One way, another, they eventually felt clingy to me, and I had to get away from them.

“I’ll wait with you. It gives me more time to get to know you.” He winked at me, but I pretended that it didn’t happen.

Swallowing hard, I leaned against the wall next to the door to the dance studio. Sif was probably changing, but wouldn't be more than a few minutes. “What do you want to know about me?” Why my attitude completely did a 360, baffled me too.

Becoming cockier, Dylan rested his hand on the wall above my left shoulder. “Everything,” he was leaning into my face just as Sif came strutting out the door.

“HEY!” she yelled, making Dylan jump away from me. “Iz—you’re not going to introduce your new… friend to me?”

I rolled my back against the wall, so that my shoulder was resting on it instead. “Sif, this is Dylan. He’s in my music class, Mr. Mathers asked me to show him around today. Dylan, this is my best friend, Sif.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan reached his hand out to Sif, and she shook it hard, and strong.

Sif widened her eyes at me, then winked at me after Dylan flashed her his prized smile. “Do you have lunch with us?”

Before Dylan could say anything, I interjected, “Yes, he does. Let’s hurry up, I’m starving!” I hooked my arm underneath Dylan’s and pulled him along while the three of us walked in silence to the cafeteria.


	3. Good Day

 

We pretty much waltzed into the cafeteria, and got in line to buy food. “Three years later, and finally vegetarian foods!” I sighed with relief and Dylan and Sif just stared at me, and then laughed to each other.

“You’re a little too excited about this, love.” Dylan took a piece of pizza off the line, while also taking a bottle of soda.

“They’ve never had veggie burgers at any school I’ve ever been to though,” I took a veggie burger, and a bottle of water, before leading Dylan up to the cashier. “I got him, it’s his first day.” I gave the lunch lady money, and Dylan went ahead to find an empty table. The only table left was where Luna and Toby were sitting, and we joined them, Sif following closely behind Dylan and I.

Luna leaned forward, her elbow resting on the round table. “And who are you? New?” She winked at Dylan, and he blushed, and nodded. “Upper West-side of Manhattan?” Luna guessed.

“How about Oxford, England?” Dylan and I laughed. I nudged his shoulder, and Luna leaned back in her chair, intimidated by our newly formed, strong friendship.

“Oh,” she gained a bitchy undertone in her voice.

Dylan ignored her, and turned to me, “What’s the best place to hang out around here? I need to go out, and not spend the rest of the month unpacking with my mum.” I pushed a stray hair out of my eyes and giggled.

“There’s Central Park? I go down to Times Square a lot. I have season pass-type things to all the Broadway shows, so I can basically go when I want, but my uncle is very strict about where I go when he’s in a mood.” Sif snorted when I mentioned my uncle.

“Travis is the dicklord of the dicks. Ugh I hate him so much.”

“Don't we all?” Toby interjected, taking a sip of his Root Beer.

Dylan leaned up against my arm, “Why don’t we go see a show? I’ve heard _Book of Mormon_ is absolutely excellent,” flashing a smile at me, my heart folded over and gave in.

Sif’s eyes widened “Don't get her started on _Book of Mormon_! She’s seen it at least 20 times in the past year.”

The side of Dylan’s mouth crept up his cheek, “Well? How about it?”

“Fine, the 8 o’clock tonight--.”

He cut me off, “It’s a date! I’ll pick you up at 6.” Dylan winked at me, and I felt my face go into a deep blush.

 

 

The bell rang shortly after our plans were settled. He followed Sif and I to Ms. Allison’s Honors U.S. Government & Politics class. History was my favorite and best subject in school. Better than music, and I was the scholarship recipient.

“Hey cousin!” I turned around, but someone had already brought me to the floor. In sheer pain, I yelped but couldn’t breathe enough to make a loud enough sound. “How’s my favorite cousin, on her first day of school! Awe Hunter, look at the poor bitch; she’s crying!” From the lack of oxygen, I felt tears drip from my eyes, and my throat closing in on me.

Then, Sif’s voice was booming over Felix’s yelling to Hunter, whom I felt was video taping this, “HUNTER LEAVE HER THE HELL ALONE!”

“Get off of her,” Dylan was trying to rip Felix off of me. He probably had a good 100 pounds over Dylan, and was at least 2 inches taller.

All of the sudden, the tremendous pressure was off of me, and I could breathe again. But, Felix was getting close to Dylan, trying to scare him away, but Dylan snuck around Felix’s blubbering body and kneeled next to me on the linoleum floor. Stupidly, I pushed Dylan away and stood up, wanting to defend myself to my foolish cousins. “Wait until Uncle Travis sees the bruises you left on my neck, and all over my body,” the bell rang. “Let’s get to class guys,” I grabbed Sif and Dylan’s wrists and pulled them down the remaining length of the hallway. We remained quiet until Ms. Allison stopped us from entering her class until we told him what happened.

Sif swallowed hard, “Felix and Hunter Batterby were harassing Izzy.” Ms. Allison let them into class, but made me stay in the hallway until I told her the whole story.

“And your uncle doesn’t pay attention to their behaviors? Or he favors them over you, and always looks at them through rose colored glasses?”

“Rose colored glasses.”

“I see. Well, you will always have a safe place in my class, just don't make a habit of being late because you know you can get away with it.” I nodded and she let me into her classroom. Sif and Dylan had found a cluster of three desks in the back, one for each of us. I joined them, and immediately laid my head on the desk. Sif put her hand on my back, and tried to soothe me while I felt hot tears welling up at the edge of my eyes. Ms. Allison collected our summer assignments as usual, and proceeded to prep us for another year at Reitman. None of us paid much attention to what she was saying; we just spaced out and our eager eyes searched around the room for forty minutes.

When the bell rang, Dylan was insistent on walking me to my last period, anatomy, which was on the other side of the school from where he had to go, “If they did something to you, and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. You guys are my only friends here, I’d be lost—“

“Dylan, they wont bother me until I get home, and by then I’ll be fine. I promise,” I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled at him before turning on my heel, and following Sif towards our last class of the day.

“Let me, at least, take you home,” he raised his voice so that I could hear.

Walking backwards, I smiled at him, “It’s a date,” I winked then turned back around, and jogged to reach Sif.

“You’re hopeless.”

“What?” I laughed at Sif’s sternness.

She looked down at me, “You honestly have no idea how to talk to guys, do you?”

“Yes I do!” I paused, “At least I think I do? Why, was I bad with talking to Dylan?” I stated down at my feet, thinking of how bad everything could go with him driving me home, and then our date six hours from that moment.

She sighed and put her arm over my shoulder, “You have so much to learn, young grasshopper.” We laughed as we continued walking to Mr. Thornewill’s anatomy class, gross.


	4. There are Miracles at Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! so the parts that are italicized and underlined are texts fyi okay love u xx mhairi

In anatomy, we did basically the same thing as we had in every class that day. So, we were all very glad to be able to go home after a long day of syllabuses, and handing in summer work. Dylan was waiting for Sif and I at our lockers, when we finally made our way through the sea of bodies. “You do know that I live less than a mile away from school, and you really don't have to drive me anywhere? I can just walk,” I was putting my extra books inside of my locker as Dylan was leaning on Seth’s, my other locker neighbor, locker.

“I’ll have more time getting to know you whilst we’re stuck in New York traffic,” He flashed his bright eyes at me, and a smile that shined as bright at the sun.

“Then let’s take the long way home. Let’s walk through Central Park! It's beautiful in the late summer.” I hated driving in the city. It took a half an hour to go two blocks especially as soon as school ended with all of the buses and stuff. Dylan agreed and we left the school. “How have you liked New York so far?” I asked.

Dylan shrugged, “I’ve only been here for a few days, but, I like the sights,” he looked down at me, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a smirk grow on his face.

“You’re a very flirty person, aren’t you?” I stopped on the sidewalk and he stopped to.

“I guess; if that’s how you want to look at it. Or to some people, it’s called ‘being nice’.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes and kept walking. That's when I heard it.

“Isadora! Iz!” I stopped and turned to see where the familiar voice was coming from.

Margaret Wilson was running after us, “Isadora!”

“Don’t call me Isadora.”

“Whatever, Isadora. Who’s your friend? Hi I’m Margaret Wilson, Student Body President. I wasn't informed that there would be a new student starting this year, so I’m here to introduce myself, and welcome you to our school. What’s your name?”

Dylan looked at me in a panic, “I’m Dylan. Dylan Reynolds.”

“You’re foreign!” Margaret practically screamed. We were on the edge of Central Park, and everyone trying to walk around us was nearly pushing us into the street.

He laughed, “Yes, I’m from Oxford, England. My mother was a professor at Oxford University. Izzy, shouldn't we be going? My mum is cooking dinner and is probably wondering where we are. Sorry, Margaret. We’ll see you tomorrow!” Dylan tried to pull me away from her but she was relentless.

“Here’s my phone number if you have any questions about the school or anything.” She tried handing him a slip of paper but Dylan looked at me and retorted.

“That’s what Izzy’s here for,” and we walked off into the park, leaving Margaret on the other side of the trees. “You don't like her at all, do you?” Dylan asked once we were out of earshot.

I sighed, “She was my cousin, Felix’s, girlfriend for like five or so years? Then he broke up with her and tried to make my life hell because she thoroughly believes that I told him to dump her. Even though I hate my whole family.” I tried to laugh off the intensity I was giving off but it wasn't working.

“So you don't have a mum or dad?”

“My mom died when I was 8 and I never knew my dad. I don't know where he is, or who he is. But when she died, I lived with Sif for a year before my uncle, Travis, took me in. His wife left him when Felix and Hunter were like three or four, because Travis is a narcissistic asshole who ruins people’s lives for his own enjoyment.

“Sorry, I get weird when I talk about my family. It’s not a fun thing to talk about.” I looked at my shoes, and tried to not make eye contact with anyone.

“I shouldn't have asked, I’m sorry.” Dylan put his arm around my waist so that I wouldn't keep drifting away from his side.

“Don't be, I’m fine. Wow.”

“What?”

“That tree looks like an octopus…” I trailed off, but after a moment of silence I asked, “What about you? What your mysterious life in England like?”

He sighed, and looked towards the trees off our path. “Mum was a History professor at Oxford, Dad died a few months ago, and we left right after the funeral. He was the head of the music and theatre program at Oxford, as well. He’s the reason I can sing, and play the instruments that I do. Have you ever known someone who could play the Theremin?” I shook my head no, I had tried to play it once, but it did not turn out well. “We’ll he could, and I learned to play it in just 16 years,” Dylan laughed, trying to knock the sadness from his eyes. I could tell how much it hurt him to talk about his dad, especially since it had only been a few months since he’d passed. Knowing his pain, I walked closer to him and wrapped my arm around his waist. I wanted to comfort him but didn't know how. He took a deep breath, “He was originally a famous pianist. He travelled all over Europe to play in gigantic arenas, since I was born. It was quite fabulous, actually. I miss him a lot, and my mother refuses to talk about him so it’s nice to be able to boast about how remarkable he was,” he paused, “and still is.” We were getting closer to my house, but I didn't want our walk to end, but I knew if I didn't get home soon, Travis would get very angry and not let me out for the rest of the month.

 

We reached the edge of the park, and were right outside of Travis’ house. “I better get inside,” I turned to face Dylan, but once our eyes met I dropped my eyes to the battered concrete sidewalk.

“I’ll see you in two hours,” Dylan leaned in to kiss me on the cheek but the door slammed open and we jumped apart.

“ISADORA WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” Travis screeched from the doorway, and I ran up the stairs to door.

I swallowed hard, but didn't make eye contact with him at all, “Nothing, Uncle Travis. I was told to show Dylan around the city, he just moved here from England.” My back was facing Dylan, but I could tell that he was scared, and embarrassed for me because of Travis.

            “Hello, Mr. Batterby, it’s very nice to meet you,” Dylan started up the stairs behind me, but I held up my hand as if to tell him to stop. Travis snarled at him, took my arm, and pulled me into the house. Dylan stood there, and waited for Travis to say something but he never did.

My back was still facing the door when I heard it slam, “You know I don't like you talking to boys. “ He swarmed like a vulture around my still body. I was frozen and just stood there trying my make myself look even smaller than I was compared to him.

“Mr. Mathers asked me to show him around since he’s in my music class.” I gave him the straight up truth answer. There was nothing to lie about; we weren’t doing anything wrong.

Because I couldn't look him in the eye, Travis got even more frustrated and possessive with me. “You’re staying in your room tonight, homework for the next week needs to be done.” He stormed off and I ran upstairs to my room before he could change his mind and give me actual work to do. I threw open the door and tossed my backpack on the bed before collapsing on my ratty bed I’ve had since I moved in with him. Laying face down, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and turned on my “rage music” which was just a band called _Catfish and the Bottlemen_ , which I loved to listen to when I was upset. I had 5 new messages from a number I didn’t know.

_ Hey Iz, it’s Dylan  _

Oh God, what was I going to tell him? Travis wouldn't let me out, but I could sneak out…

_ I understand if you can’t go out tonight _

_ Now I realize why everyone hates your uncle so much, lol _

_ I had a lot of fun today, getting to know you _

_ (I know you love musicals so you probably understand that pun) _

I was sort of speechless. He was super understanding of everything I have to go through, and live with to the point where he automatically cancelled our plans because he knew. No one had really acknowledged how much shit I has to go through except for my closest friends at school.

_ Hi, Dylan. Thanks for being so nice to me. I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of Travis’ fit this afternoon. _

I put my head back down and just laid still until my phone buzzed a few seconds later with his reply:

_ I guess we’ll just have to go see a show sometime soon then, aye? _

He replied and I smirked at the phone before writing out another text to him.

_ We must! I’ll see you tomorrow  _ _ J _

I hit send then pulled out my laptop and started working on a music project that Mr. Mathers had assigned us for next month, but I wanted to get a head start.

_ Or how about tonight? Central Park. Sundown? _

_ By the tree that looks like an octopus. _


End file.
